More than a Memory
by sourulfur
Summary: Stiles' senior year will be one to remember. A changing relationship with his favorite Sourwolf, memories he can't be sure are real, secrets from the past coming to light. Just how does Derek know Stiles from before, and what about college? AU. STEREK.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

Stiles Stilinski was awkward, that much everybody knew. He was awkward, and gangly, and pale, and annoying, and he never sat still or listened. He was always getting into some kind of trouble and running into things. He tripped up the stairs, on his own shoelaces, on nothing. He was undeniably _human_, and yet, somehow, he had caught the attention of one nicknamed Sourwolf. Stiles was completely and totally unaware of this fact, though he seemed to be the only one. Then again, there was something that Stiles was completely unaware of, something that, when he found out, would change everything.

However, for the moment, Stiles would remain unaware. He was sitting in his chemistry classroom, tapping his fingers on his textbook, fighting the urge to mock gag at Allison and Scott being, well, Allison and Scott. Sometimes, he really wished he had a better best friend. Then again, Scott had been there for him after his mother had died. At least, he was pretty sure it was Scott. He could not really remember anything from about a year after his mother passed back. He remembered bits and pieces of his mother specifically, memories of time with her and all that jazz. However, anything else was just gone from the eighteen-year-old's memory.

_God_, chemistry was boring. Thankfully, it was his last class of the day. There was a pack meeting that night. Well, okay, so it was more like a pack bonding night. They were all going to meet up at one of the coffee shops in town and just... hang. It was odd. Stiles had never been really popular, though he was close friends with some of the most popular people in school. He was not "cool by association", but nobody really picked on him anymore. That was mostly because Jackson shoved someone against the lockers and told them to back off Stiles before he _made_ them. When questioned later, the lacrosse star shrugged and simply said, "He's pack." Then, of course, was the muttering to Lydia about how Derek would have ended him if something happened to Stiles when he could have prevented it; which just made Stiles laugh and roll his eyes.

Stiles sighed and picked up his highlighter, tapping out a nameless beat with it as he looked around the classroom. Where was their teacher? He was going to get copies of their homework. Surely it did not take _that_ long. His eyes stopped wandering as he glanced back toward the windows and spotted Derek outside, leaning against the black Camero, sullen as usual. He went to ask Scott or Issac if they knew that Derek was there, or why, but then stopped himself with a laugh. Of _course_ they knew Derek was there. He was their alpha, after all. Questions for Derek, then.

When the bell rang, their teacher _finally_ returned with the homework sheets and passed them out to everyone as they left the classroom. The halls were loud and busy, everyone rushing around, in a hurry to get out of there. Boyd clapped him on the shoulder as they passed one another, saying a quick, "See you in a few," as he threw an arm around Erica's shoulders. It was odd, Stiles mused with a faint smile toward the ground. He actually _felt_ like he belonged, which was definitely something new to him. It was the first day of his senior year. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally looking up and his luck was turning around for good.

Or not.

Stiles groaned as he managed to trip over his own two feet in the courtyard outside as he was heading over to Derek to see what the Hale Pack alpha was doing there. He just stayed there for a few moments on the ground, giving a thumbs up to someone who laughed, "Nice work, Balinski."

Damn his luck.

"You okay?" he heard, making his brow furrow as he looked up enough to see Derek standing over him.

Derek was seemingly unimpressed, his mouth pinched in a faint line, though his brow was furrowed faintly, as if he might actually care a bit whether or not Stiles managed to hurt himself again. "Peachy keen, Sourwolf," Stiles replied, though he did take the werewolf's hand when the man offered to help him up. "Thanks. What're you doing here? Do you get off creepin' on the high school or something?"

A predictable eye roll from Derek followed in response as he turned to head back to his car. "Get in the car, Stiles," was all Derek said in response.

Stiles stood there for a moment like he was going to argue. Instead, he just shrugged and listened. Scott had driven him to school that morning, after all, and he really did not feel like sitting in the backseat, watching him and Allison being all lovey and cute all the way to the coffee shop. "So, how is my favorite Sourwolf today?" questioned Stiles with a cheesy grin as he sank down low in his seat, bouncing his knee absently without bothering to buckle in. Derek drove fast, but he had good control over the car. He was not worried about an accident. There was a trust there that Stiles could not believe was actually there, considering the whole growly, throwing against walls, anger, brooding thing that typically would have made him just avoid Hale. "Sour as usual?"

The teen smirked to himself as Derek offered no response. So, he took it as an invitation to continue talking, if only to fill the silence. Stiles hated silence. It was too... silent. It reminded him of bad times. He rambled on about school, Scott and Allison, Jackson being all moody, the school lunches and how he was starving because it was gross. He continued talking until Derek arched a brow and glanced over at him. "Yes, Derek? Do you actually have something to input?" questioned Stiles, unable to keep the slight sound of hope from his voice.

"You talk too much," Derek replied simply, though Stiles was fairly sure, and it could have just been his delusional mind being delusional (y'know, one too many hits to the head or something), that there was a hint of _fondness_ to Derek's tone.

Derek fond of _him_? It had to be his imagination because hello? He was a frail, skinny little human with a loud mouth and a tendency to not full think things through. At the same time, though, he often over-thought things. It was just how he worked.

"Thank you for that, Captain Obvious." Stiles smiled softly, though, as he settled into his seat more, tapping his fingers on his bouncing knee.

* * *

"That is way too much sugar, Stiles," Scott said with a wrinkle of his nose as he watched his best friend make himself a cup of coffee.

The brown-eyed teen just shook his head with a wide grin. "Nah," he replied, setting down the empty packets. "It's just right. You just do not appreciate my perfected ratio of coffee to sugar and creamer."

"It's practically flavored sugar water!"

"Exactly!"

Scott groaned, Derek smiled to himself faintly as he stayed busy with his own cup of coffee (silent as ever), the girls talked about a shopping trip into the city that weekend (because the next was the full moon and that would not happen), Jackson and Issac talked about some sports thing, while Boyd was talking to Danny about weight lifting. It was peaceful, despite the barista behind the counter looking terrified at the sheer number of the group, that only grew as Sheriff Stilinski and Mrs. McCall showed up to join them.

"Scott, I sent out your application to Berkeley today," Melissa stated as she stole a muffin from her son's plate.

Everyone around them started talking about college applications and scholarships and all that jazz. Derek tensed next to Stiles, who was silent (for once). "Where are you applying Stiles?" questioned Lydia after boasting about Jackson's scholarship to Berkeley for swimming _and_ lacrosse.

Stiles stared wide-eyed at everyone, his mouth full of whatever pastry he had ordered, before he quickly finished the food and laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair that he had started to grow out a bit again. "Me? Uh, yeah, the whole college thing... continuing my education... living in dorms and all that jazz..." he laughed nervously, bouncing his knee under the table, accidentally hitting Derek (who was even more tense at that moment) with his leg as he moved it from side to side as well until the Alpha rested a hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. Stiles swallowed thickly as his dad watched him and he shrugged a little before laughing awkwardly. "I honestly have no idea where I want to go or what to study or anything. Might take some time off and just kinda... y'know... figure it out."

Derek seemed to relax next to Stiles, only a little, while the Sheriff frowned faintly. "You could go to Berkeley with the rest of us!" Scott said with a beaming smile. "We chose it so we could stay close to home, visit on the weekends... full moons and such."

The pack alpha smiled faintly to himself once again, masking it behind his cup of coffee, though Stiles saw it. The teen did not even really realize that Derek's hand was still on his knee. It was kind of comforting to have it there, so Stiles did not do anything to remove it, missing the sly smiles that Lydia and Allison shared. "Yeah, well, that's definitely one of the top options," Stiles replied with a nod.

To be honest, he had filled out all kinds of applications, and he had gotten accepted to multiple schools. He had not lied when he said he did not know where he wanted to go or what he wanted to study. It was true. He had so many options. There were a few witches that were pushing for him to go study in Cambridge, and even a few more who wanted him to go to _England_. Of course, Stiles could not let that suggestion go without a plethora of _Harry Potter_ jokes. He wanted to go abroad (they'd offered him a _full ride_ scholarship), but at the same time, something was nagging at him to stay home. He had the entire summer and rest of the school year to decide, though. It was only the beginning of December.

Once their little meeting was over, and everyone else went their ways, Stiles and Derek continued to sit there in the coffee shop. "You really haven't decided on a school yet?" Derek questioned slowly, almost as if he was afraid to approach the subject. Ha! Derek afraid. Stiles made himself laugh.

He shook his head a little, stirring his cold coffee with a slight shrug. "There's just... s'a lot to think about, y'know?" he replied. There were a lot of reasons why he did not want to go far from home. What startled him a bit, though, was the fact that most of the time, his thoughts came back to the Sourwolf next to him.

Stiles worried about who would make sure Derek did not get out of line, make sure he did not go all brooding and moody and lock himself away in the basement, make sure he remembered to eat (on days that Stiles remembered to eat, himself), and all that jazz. He was not sure why he worried about those things, but _someone_ had to help take care of Derek, since he would not do it for himself. Stiles' brow furrowed a little as that thought made him almost remember something. At least, he thought it was a memory. He could practically hear somebody, in a very frail and breathless voice, say, "_Promise me you'll look after him, Derek._"

"Stiles!" Derek said rather loudly, making the teen jump a little. "Are you okay? You kinda spaced out there for a second."

"Uh, yeah, yeah I'm fine." Stiles smiled widely at Derek and nodded, absently ruffling his own hair. "Just got caught up in my thoughts for a moment. Hey! I just remembered, I've never had a chance to break in that game Scott got me for my birthday. Wanna come over so I can kick your butt at it?"

Derek laughed faintly (it was short and did not last nearly long enough, but it was a nice sound), and shrugged a little, pushing back his empty coffee cup. "C'mon, Stiles," he stated as he stood up.

The awkward teen smiled and got up as well. He rambled the entire way to Derek's car, and then the entire way to his house. His dad was working late, so it was just the two of them as they played video games, ordered pizza, and talked about random, unimportant things. It was odd, though. Derek actually _talked _with him. It was nothing important or monumental, but the man did add a few things here and there to the conversation, actually making it a conversation instead of Stiles just rambling on and taking silent cues to what Derek was thinking from the wolf's facial expressions.

When Sheriff Stilinski returned home late that night (or early the next morning, depending on how you looked at it), Derek and Stiles were asleep, leaning against the headboard of Stiles' bed. The teen was leaning against Derek, head on the young man's shoulder as the television screen said _GAME OVER_ across it. They both still had controllers in their hands and Derek's head rested on top of Stiles'. The sheriff wanted to barge in there, wake them up and _demand_ that Derek go home and to never do that again. But, Stiles was _asleep_, something that did not happen. He did not seem to be having any nightmares, either. He could not bring himself to interrupt that. Derek was a lucky man.

The sheriff sighed softly and shook his head, but kept going down the hall to his own room, missing Derek's eyes open. Derek glanced down at Stiles and smiled faintly as the teen pressed a little closer to him. He should probably go home, to put distance between himself and Stiles; but, he could not bring himself to move, especially since the sheriff did not kick him out as he had predicted. Derek closed his eyes, and fell back asleep.


	2. Chapter 2: The Next Day

_Thank you everyone for the reviews, follows, and favorites. Hopefully you like this chapter just as much. I'm not sure how many parts there will be. Enjoy!_

* * *

"Derek," Stiles mumbled, still half-asleep as he woke up. His brow furrowed as he found that the man he had fallen asleep next to was gone. He had a slight crick in his neck from the awkward position he'd been in all night. The television and game console were turned off, the controller that was in his hand was gone, and he was laying down. He knew he did not get up and do any of that. A faint, though confused, smile tugged on his face when he realized the space next to him on the bed was still warm, and the window to his bedroom was open. Derek had not left all that long ago.

When his alarm went off a few moments later, Stiles got up and took a shower as a faint pink glow started to form on the eastern horizon from the beginnings of the sunrise. It was odd with the sun rising later in the day. It made Stiles just want to go back and sleep for a couple more hours. He would only find himself grounded if he missed classes (without _good_ reason) again. By the time he got downstairs to grab some breakfast, his dad was already awake, nursing a cup of coffee. "Hey, Dad," Stiles said through a yawn before making his own coffee just how he liked it.

The sheriff grunted out a response, though Stiles took no offense. Neither of them were morning people. "Is this a new thing?" he asked his son after a few minutes of silence that allowed Stiles to get his breakfast and sit at the table across from him.

"Is what a new thing?" Stiles mumbled around a mouthful of blueberry muffin. What? It was delicious, and he was starving. It was better than breakfast at school (which would probably be paper-like biscuits and tasteless gravy); though, eating there would allow him to sleep in more. Maybe it would be a fair trade. Maybe.

"Finding Derek Hale asleep in your room. This is the third time this month."

Stiles shrugged a little as he fidgeted in his seat, though it was not out of nervousness. Stiles was just always moving. "It's not like it's planned. 'Sides, it doesn't mean anything. You never questioned Scott staying over here."

But Scott never looked at Stiles the way that he saw Derek did. It did mean something, though, obviously, his soon was completely blind to it. "Stiles, you're going to be late," the sheriff said after silence fell between them again and he glanced at the clock.

Stiles' eyes widened a bit as he hopped up. "Where's Scott? The jeep's still in the shop!"

Stiles frantically gathered his things, asking his dad for a ride as they started out the door, only to stop when they found Derek outside, standing next to his own car. He jerked his head toward it, going around to the driver's side, as Stiles said, "Never mind. See ya at the game, Dad!"

The teen grinned and rushed over to Derek's car, getting in with a sigh. "Where's Scott?" he questioned, only needing to see Derek raise an eyebrow to know the answer to that. "Oh. Allison."

He should have known. It would not have been the first time Scott forgot him for Allison. Stiles wanted to hate her, but he couldn't. "Are you coming to the game tonight?" questioned the teen as he absently bounced his knee, settling low into the seat, like usual.

"No," Derek replied without taking his eyes off the road.

"Why not? You should. I'm playing!" Stiles was so excited about that fact (though it was because none of the other reserves could take their ill teammate's place), and a part of him had hoped that Derek was too.

Derek, however, seemed less than thrilled. He did not want to see Stiles get hurt, but was not going to admit that was why he came across indifferent about the entire thing. "C'mon, don't be such a Sourwolf. The entire pack's going out for pizza afterward. You should come."

The alpha glanced over at Stiles, who gave the man an awkward, lopsided grin. "I mean, it's cool if you really don't want to," he said, biting back the sigh that wanted to escape him.

* * *

"You're hurt," Derek growled as he took Stiles' face in hand, turning the teen's chin so that he could better see the bruising on the pale boy's cheekbone.

"Ah, yeah. Well, some of the guys thought it would be funny to trip me up in the locker room. At least I didn't hit my head?" Stiles said as he laughed a little, though it almost seemed nervous. Derek was close, not that it was something new, but the guy was almost pressed up against him completely, which was something new. There was always distance between them. "Jackson and Scott were around the corner so they couldn't really do anything."

Derek did not seem any less upset that he was looking at Stiles, who had a huge bruise on the side of his face, on his knee, and on his right arm. "Who was it?"

Stiles shook his head with a shrug. "Didn't pay that much attention." Okay, so that was a lie; but, he did not need Derek going all alpha on a couple teenagers because a member of his pack got hurt. Stiles did not really stop to think the fact that if it was Scott, Derek would not have cared so much. Then again, if it had been Scott, he wouldn't be bruised like Stiles was. "Maybe we should go find the others. I think they're letting Erica order, which means veggie pizzas all around."

The elder of the two sighed and let go of Stiles, who stepped back from Derek with a slight smile. Neither one said anything as they went across the large and loud pizza parlor to find their group. Stiles missed and Derek ignored the looks that the others gave them.

Friendly chatter filled the group, though Derek stayed quiet (like usual). Stiles kept glancing over at him, trying to figure something out, though he was not even sure what it was he was trying to figure out. Something was off, though. That much, he knew for sure. Something felt familiar in the way Derek had held his face, though he knew that Derek had never done that before. Right? Right. He was sure he would remember big and brooding Sourwolf doing something like that before. He did not mind it, being a very touchy-feely person; but, still. It was _Derek _and Derek did not do those kinds of things. It was too close to emotions and words, something that Stiles could easily tell the man was no good at. Of course, it did not take a genius to see that.

"_Stiles, what did you run into this time?_" he heard someone say, voice mixed with a sigh and a slight laugh, a phantom touch to his face. His brow furrowed a little, trying to place the voice. It was not his dad's, or his mother's. It was someone else's, someone important. He just did not know who.

He should have been used to random little memories such as that one, or the one the night before of someone talking to a Derek (certainly not the one sitting next to him); but, they still always caught Stiles by surprise. He was never sure if they were actually memories, or something from a dream. He wished he knew the difference, but with years of his life just gone from his memory, it was hard to tell.

Stiles was on auto-pilot for the rest of the night, though everyone just assumed it was because he had missed a dose of his Adderall, but to be honest, he was really just lost in thought about everything. The night had not gone as planned at all, and he seemed to just make a bigger fool out of himself. Senior year was obviously not going to be the turn around for him that he had hoped. Ah well. At least he had his friends. Stiles blinked and looked up when he felt an elbow pressing into his side and he looked over at Derek, who arched a brow in response. Stiles then glanced to everyone else, who were staring at him. "Uh... hi?" he said with a soft laugh, not sure how long he had let himself get lost in thought.

"You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?" asked Lydia with a soft huff.

"Uhm, no?" The teen laughed sheepishly and winced when Lydia kicked him under the table, earning her a glare from Derek, though she ignored it. "Sorry. S'up?"

"Homecoming's next week, dude," Scott said, looking worriedly at his best friend. "We're all goin' together. You in?"

Homecoming. Right. Biggest night of the year for the seniors. Everyone would have a date. Except him; and Derek, but Derek wasn't a student, so he didn't count. Even his _dad_ was going with a date. Okay, so he was a chaperone and he was going with Melissa, but still. "Uh, y'know, I think I've got plans that evening involving some studying I've not done." Stiles shrugged a little. It was no big deal.

Honestly, he was not all that bummed out. It was a stupid dance. What bummed him out more was the fact that it was a reminder that he was the loser on the outside of everything. Even with his friends, he never really fit in. Stiles really wanted to go get some sleep, which he announced as he got up, forgetting that Derek was his ride there until he got outside. "Fuck," he sighed as he ran a hand through his lengthening hair.

"Stiles," he heard behind him, making him spin around to see Derek standing there, both hands in his leather jacket. "Get in the car."

Derek didn't ask questions as he drove, and Stiles was grateful for the faint music playing on the radio being the only sound in the car beyond the typical car noises. "I hate December," Stiles mumbled after a couple of moments.

"I know," Derek replied. He reached over and took Stiles' hand in his own, squeezing gently.

The teen sighed softly, squeezing Derek's hand in response, not even really thinking on the fact that _Derek Hale_ was holding his hand. "Just want to sleep, preferably not waking up."

Derek tensed a little in the driver's seat, his grip on Stiles' hand strengthening a little. "Say something like that again, and I'll rip your throat out."

"Try again, Sourwolf. Your threats don't scare me," Stiles said with a faint smile as he looked over at Derek. "You won't hurt me."

"I could."

The teen smiled slightly again, looking forward as he settled into his seat, hand still clasping on to Derek's. He knew the truth behind the alpha's words. Derek _could_ hurt him, and with very minimal effort; but, the fact of the matter remained that Derek _wouldn't_ hurt him. There was a big difference between the two, and they both knew it. "Why aren't you going to the dance, Stiles, _really_?" Derek asked as he parked the car outside the Stilinski home.

Stiles sighed inaudibly and got out of the car, but did not answer. It did not surprise him when Derek followed him inside. Still, he did not answer. He did not want to talk about it. "Does it matter? It's just a stupid dance."

"You want to be there, though."

Derek leaned against Stiles' bedroom door frame as the brown-eyed boy turned to face him. The alpha had to stop himself from getting upset again, seeing the bruising on Stiles' face. "I'm going to shower. Are you sticking around or not?" When Derek shrugged, Stiles mimicked the action and gathered the things he would need for the shower. He shut the door after him as Derek sat down on his bed.

Maybe he should have been a little more unnerved with Derek sticking around his room like it was a normal thing, but really, it did not bother Stiles in the slightest. To be honest, he had grown used to Derek's presence over the years. He always felt a lot safer when the alpha was around, and it was not just because of that status. _Derek_ made Stiles feel safe.

The teen sighed inaudibly, oblivious to the fact that Derek was setting his coat aside and sitting down on his own bed, though he did not mind it at all. He really did not want to be there alone, and he knew his dad would be going into work again. It was the time of year in which his dad spent as much time working as possible. Stiles did not blame him. He was throwing himself into school work and research for the pack. He did not want free time to think and remember.

When he went back into his bedroom, Derek was sitting on his bed, looking at a photo of him and his mother that had been setting on his bookshelf. "D'you remember her?" Stiles questioned as he sat down next to Derek.

"Yeah," Derek said with an inaudible sigh, nodding a little. "She died not long before the fire."

Stiles' brow furrowed a little as he tried to piece the two items together on the timeline he had in his head. For some reason, he had them being years apart, but from what Derek was saying, that was nog right. Stiles wished he could just remember everything easier. "She was a lot like you," Derek said with a soft laugh. "Talked just as much. She was... a great lady. 'Ve nothing but fond memories of her."

"So, did we know each other before then? Or... I dunno... Don't really remember my childhood," Stiles admitted with a shrug, taking the photo when Derek handed it to him so that he could set it aside. "I don't really remember you from before, just the stories of what happened."

"We met," Derek offered simply with a shrug, leaning back against Stiles' pillows there on the bed, earning himself an eye roll from the eighteen-year-old. He should not have expected more of an answer than that from Derek. He was not a man of many words, after all. He was one of the more quiet people. It was almost unnerving, but Stiles was used to it.

The two of them lay on Stiles' bed, talking about nothing really, until they both fell asleep. They were in much the same position they had been in the night before, only that time, they were actually laying down. When Stiles woke up the next morning, though, Derek was still there. The man was asleep next to him while he was absently clinging to the front of the alpha's shirt. He'd be more embarrassed by the small drool spot on Derek's shoulder if it was the first time something like that had happened. Stiles had a history of falling asleep on people, however. He was surprised that he had slept through the night, though. That was something that was a rare occasion. Maybe it was because Derek was there.

Stiles' brow furrowed a little at that thought as he lifted his head to look at Derek, who continued sleeping. The teen's brow furrowed even more as he found himself easily able to picture a little boy with dark hair curling up on the floor next to him. Maybe it was because he was half-asleep still; but, Stiles was fairly sure the memory (if that was what it was) was of Derek as a child. He had no idea what Derek had looked like as a child, though. At least, Stiles didn't think that he did.

"Where are you going?" Derek mumbled, his eyes opening once Stiles reached the door, making the teen turn to look at him.

"Making coffee," was all Stiles said in response, making it to the bottom of the stairs before he said, "C'mon, Sourwolf. There's plenty to share."

He knew that Derek could hear him, and that his father was still at work, so he knew there'd be no awkward questions. Stiles yawned as he went around the kitchen, making some coffee while making sure there were clean coffee cups. His sleep pants were slipping a bit low on his waist, though he did not realize until his eyes widened as Derek was lifting them back into place, tightening the drawstring on them. Stiles' breath caught in his chest for a moment and his heart rate picked up, which he knew Derek knew. Stiles was honestly not sure of what to make of the entire situation, but he laughed softly as Derek said, "S'too early for you to be flashing the world, Stiles."

"Uhm, yeah, thanks."

His heart was still pounding, even after Derek moved away. To be honest, he was not sure if the whole thing really happened or if it was just his imagination running off with him. When he looked over at Derek, who sat at the kitchen table, the man did not act as though anything had happened. Maybe he was just losing his mind. He had _felt_ Derek's fingers brush against his hips, though. Maybe he needed to teach the wolf about personal space.

But he did not want to.

Stiles laughed softly and ran a hand through his hair before shaking his head and starting to make some breakfast just as the sheriff walked in. The man's brow lifted when he spotted Derek sitting at the table while Stiles was busy with the milk and eggs. "Uh... hello," he said, earning a wave from Stiles, who was busy trying to focus, though his own focus was more on Derek.

Sheriff Stilinski had no problems with Derek, at all. The young man was one who had saved his son more than once, and he could easily remember the kid that his wife had babysat so many times all those years ago. However, he could also tell there was something between Derek and his son, even if nothing had come of it yet, something _could_ come of it, and that was a danger. Derek would be no different than any other guy Stiles might bring home, then. Only, there would still be the whole Derek saving Stiles' life thing. The sheriff decided he did not want to ask any questions and went up to rest. After having worked a double shift at work, he needed it.

"Stiles, I'm going to go," Derek said as he stood up, making the teen turn to face him. "Stuff to do. Pack meeting tonight. Erica'll kill me if I don't have the heat fixed."

"Oh, right. Yeah. I'll see you there," Stiles replied with a nod. He did not even turn around again before Derek was gone, missing the heavy sigh from Stiles. "Guess I'll go bug Scott or something."


	3. Chapter 3: The Missed Meeting

**_Thanks again, everyone for the reads, reviews, follows and favorites. I'm glad you're enjoying this. :) _**

* * *

There had been talks of wolf attacks a couple hours north of Beacon Hills, and it had everyone in the pack on edge. "There's a chance they aren't even headed in this direction," Boyd commented, and they all knew it to be true. They could not rely on that, however. Relying on hope like that was foolish and could lead to disaster if they were wrong.

"We'll keep closer watch on the borders," Derek replied absently. "The Argents will too."

Allison nodded in response, but Derek did not notice. He was too focused on the fact that Stiles was not there. He had no idea where the silly, little human was. Stiles was supposed to be there, and it was odd to see the teen's chair vacant for once. Scott did not seem worried, so Derek tried to not be. But, it was Stiles, and Stiles never missed a pack meeting. "Where's Stiles?" Lydia asked suddenly with a frown, as if she was just then realizing who was missing, and she was.

"Not here," was Derek's stiff response, though it was easy to tell from that alone, he was not sure, himself.

Everyone looked to Scott, whose brow furrowed as he shrugged a little. "I thought he'd be here. Is he sick?" Scott questioned.

"He was fine this morning."

Nobody questioned when Derek had seen Stiles that morning, or how; they just took it to be a good thing that Stiles was not sick. "Maybe we should look for him," Lydia said with a faint frown. She did not like not knowing where Stiles was. It was when they were unaware of where their hyperactive bundle of randomness was that bad things happened.

Issac whined faintly, and Scott gently squeezed his shoulder in reassurance that everything was fine. Derek nodded a little at Lydia's suggestion. He had a feeling he knew where Stiles was, to be honest. However, he let the others look, to give them more of a sense of being needed or whatnot. They needed the moral boost. So, the pack took out to find their missing member, and when Derek found the teen at his estimated location, Derek texted the others to let them know Stiles was okay.

Derek sighed softly, his breath spiraling out in front of him in the cold night air as he walked toward Stiles, who sat on the frozen ground in front of his mother's headstone, staring at it. "Stiles?" he asked, kind of softly so that he did not startle the teen any.

Stiles just glanced over at him before looking forward again. "Scott wasn't home when I got there earlier," he explained. "So, I came here." Stiles laughed a little, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Scott's never really there, is he?" Of course, Stiles knew that Scott could and would be there if he was really needed, but that did not mean it did not suck to go to his friend's place to find out that, once again, he was spending the day with Allison.

Derek did not say anything, but Stiles did not mind. Derek never really spoke. It was just who he was. Stiles did not know how to handle a talkative Derek. The world would be ending, he knew it. Neither one said anything as they sat there, Stiles leaning against Derek's side a little. It's a comfortable, companionable silence that almost has Stiles on edge; but, he finds that he really does like having Derek, there.

There's almost something familiar in the way Derek's arm wraps around his middle, fingers brushing against his arm. It's an absentminded action, and Stiles is not even sure Derek's aware what he's doing. The teen says nothing, though, not wanting to break the moment. "I wish I could remember more," Stiles admitted after a long time. "I barely remember what she looked like, her voice, what she smelt like. Then, I'll smell something similar and..."

"It hits hard," Derek finished for him, voice soft but sure. Derek knew what it was like. Derek had lost more than he had. Stiles sighed and rested his head on Derek's shoulder.

"You said we met before. Were we friends?" Stiles was not sure if he really wanted to know. He had blocked everything out for a reason. Selective amnesia, the doctors told him, was a rare but possible side effect of post-traumatic stress, something he had been diagnosed with but did not know _why_. Stiles had a feeling it was something to do with his mother. He just could not figure out _what_.

Derek frowned a little, but did not pull away from Stiles any. He gently squeezed the teen's arm before saying, "Get up, Stiles. We should get you home. S'too cold out here. Can't have you getting sick."

"Yeah..."

Stiles gets up without struggling, staying close to Derek. Maybe it should have been odd to be so close to Derek, but it wasn't. It was comforting. Plus, the alpha was a lot warmer than he was. He was trembling in his hoodie and jeans. Maybe he should have worn a thicker coat. The teen was slightly startled as Derek took his jacket off to give to Stiles, who was immediately grateful for the extra warmth.

No words were exchanged as they walked back to the Stilinski house, and as they went inside, it started to snow. The sheriff did not say anything as Derek led Stiles upstairs so that he could get something warmer and more comfortable on. The elder two exchanged a few brief words while Derek helped make dinner as Stiles changed. Derek and Stiles ate in the teen's bedroom, and when the sheriff checked on them, they were asleep on Stiles' bed. Stiles was laying with his back to Derek's chest and the elder male had his arm draped over the pale teen's middle, face pressed against the back of his neck. With a heavy sigh, Stiles' dad decided he did not want to know exactly how the two of them ended up laying like that.

* * *

Scott's face scrunched up and Stiles rose his brow in silent question as he shut his locker. "Dude," Scott said, his face contorting with confusion. "S'that Derek's jacket?" Stiles just nodded in response and Scott looked torn between being angry or being confused. "Why do you have Derek's jacket?"

"He left it, and I couldn't find mine this morning," Stiles answered with a shrug. Honestly, it was as simple as that. Derek had left after that night, and Stiles did not see him at all on Sunday. He had woken up late that morning, and had grabbed the alpha's jacket as he rushed out of his bedroom since he could not find his own.

"You two are getting... close." Scott did not say it like it was a bad thing. He simply sounded cautious. Honestly, Scott could care less if Stiles liked guys (that was his choice), or if Stiles _liked_ Derek. The only thing he worried about was Derek hurting his friend. That was what he did not want. Even if he was a bit vacant because of the whole Allison thing, Stiles was still his best friend and very important to him. "Just... let me know if he hurts you, and I'll gut him."

Stiles choked on a laugh and shook his head with an amused smirk. "Nothing's going on, Scott. Don't think you've gotta worry."

Scott was not so sure, but he let the subject drop as he and Stiles made their way to the chemistry class. Stiles was exhausted, as he often was in December. It was an emotional time, but he tried to remain the smiling, happy kid (he was _not_ a kid, thank you very much) that everyone knew him to be. It was all he could do to keep from nodding off in chemistry, but apparently, he lost that battle; because he ended up finding himself in a very vivid dream.

"_No, don't touch him. Stiles, Stiles, run!" he heard someone say, though as he looked around, he did not see anyone. It was just him, alone in the woods near the charred remains of the Hale house. "No." There were the sounds of crying through the words. "My son."_

_Stiles pressed his hands to his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as the sounds of dogs barking, unintelligible voices shouting, chains and doors, gunshots, and other various things he could not name seemed to surround him, echoing off the trees._

"_Shh..." Stiles heard a new voice. This one was more soothing, not shouting. It still seemed a bit scared and unsure. "Stiles, it's okay. It's just me. You're okay. Open your eyes. Open your eyes, Stiles. I need you to look at me."_

Stiles jumped with a gasp, jerking out of his sleep after his teacher slammed a book down on the desk next to his head. Scott tensed in his seat and Allison's grip on his arm was the only thing keeping him from lashing out. Jackson looked irritated (after all, Stiles was his person to pick on), and Lydia looked worriedly at him. "Glad you could rejoin us, Mr. Stilinski. Is my lecture that boring?" the teacher questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"N-no, sir. Sorry," Stiles mumbled as he shook his head a little, absently rubbing his face with one hand. He was going to blame staying up reading wolf-lore was the cause of his odd dream. It often was, after all. He was just projecting himself into one of those stories. Right? Which one, though? He did not remember anything that gave him the feeling that dream had. Was it even a dream,? What if it wasn't?

The bell rang, dismissing the class (though Stiles was told he had detention after school), and everyone gathered their things to leave. That was a silly thought, and Stiles left the classroom with Scott, forgetting all about the odd dream.

School was rather uneventful after that, and when he got out of detention, Stiles was (for some reason) unsurprised to find Derek there waiting for him. Everyone else _did_ have jobs (or swim team practice, in Jackson's case); but, something told Stiles that even if they didn't, Derek would be there. He liked that. "Scott said you fell asleep in class," Derek said simply as Stiles came to a stop in front of him. The human shrugged his shoulders a little as Derek frowned at him. "Shouldn't be missing sleep."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Stiles replied exasperatedly. Come on, like he would _really_ purposely miss out on sleep. He loved sleep. Sleep was his best friend forever, next to Scott, of course. "Are you going to give me a ride or lecture me on fragile human's sleeping patterns?"

"Come over."

It was more of a request than a command and all Stiles could do for a few moments was to stare blankly at Derek until he realized that the other man really had just said that. "Oh, uh, yeah. 'Ve got homework to do, though."

Derek nodded and went over to the other side of the car to get in, while Stiles got into the passenger seat. He smiled faintly as Derek drove and he let his eyes fall closed. He did not fall asleep, though he really wanted to. He was more than comfortable enough in front of Derek to sleep. "Stiles, why don't you want to go to homecoming?" Derek asked after a few moments of silence.

Stiles bit back the want to groan. Of course, Sourwolf had to bring up that subject again. Stiles really did not want to talk about it. He did not want to talk about how it just served to remind him how much of an outcast he still was and would always remain to be, even with his friends. Instead, the teen sighed and said, "It's senior year; I'd be the only one there without a date. 'All of us are going together' is synonymous with 'we're all showing up together and sitting together, but really we're going to pair off to suck face'. I'd rather not be the odd one out, again. Not for this."

The alpha did not have any arguments or anything, knowing that Stiles had every right to feel that way. In honesty, he was rather glad that Stiles did not have someone at school he wanted to go to the dance with. Then, he kicked himself for that selfish thought. Stiles deserved happiness. Derek was not sure what to do, so he reached over and squeezed Stiles' knee gently. Neither one said a word as his hand stayed there the rest of the drive.


	4. Chapter 4: The Dance

_**So, questions about Stiles' memories and all that stuff will be answered at some point, not saying whether it's in this chapter or not ;) But expect them to happen eventually. Enjoy this chapter. Warning: fluffy oddness.**_

* * *

Derek watched Stiles as the teen worked on homework. Stiles hummed a nameless tune to himself, scribbling his answer into the blank area on the worksheet. Derek was making dinner for the two of them and they stayed in a companionable silence. It was odd, but nice. "Are you any good with algebra?" Stiles asked after a long while. Stiles was not sure if it was because he really just could not grasp the concept, or because he was having a hard time concentrating; but, he could not get the last few questions on his worksheet.

"Uh, yeah, a bit," Derek answered with a shrug. "What're you having trouble with?" He came up behind Stiles, looking over his shoulder at the textbook, and worksheet as the teen pointed out what it was he was working on.

The two of them finished Stiles' homework together and ate dinner while sitting on the couch, watching some mindless comedy on the television. It was nice, Stiles thought, resting against Derek, in a somewhat familiar way. It should not have felt familiar, though. It was not every day that Stiles snuggled up with a wolf to watch television, Scott not counting.

Stiles was almost asleep with his head on Derek's shoulder when the man carefully moved and said, "We should get you home, Stiles."

The teen wanted to argue, but nodded his head a little, sitting up with a stretch. "Dad'll be home soon. What time is it?"

"Late."

Stiles rolled his eyes at the short, simple response, though it was more in a fond manner than anything. Derek helped the half-asleep teen gather his school things before they went out to the Camero. The ride was filled with silence because Stiles ended up drifting off in the passenger seat, leaning against the window with his legs tucked up to his chest. Derek frowned faintly as he drove. He wished he could just make things better for Stiles, or he could just tell the kid what it was he was forgetting. That could be even more traumatizing and damaging, however. If Stiles was going to know, it was going to be because he remembered on his own.

When they got to the house, Derek did not wake up Stiles. Instead, he picked the teen up after carefully opening the door, and carried him to the house. Derek used his elbow to ring the doorbell after seeing the sheriff's cruiser outside. A few minutes later, a disoriented and rumpled looking sheriff answered the door. "Derek?" he questioned, voice thick with sleep as his brow furrowed a little.

"Lost track of time, doing homework and watching a movie. He fell asleep in the car," answered Derek softly, not wanting to wake Stiles. "His bag's in the car."

"Uh... yeah, yeah come on in," the sheriff said, opening the door more before moving out of the way to let Derek in. "His room's the first one on the left, but, you knew that..."

Derek did not confirm nor deny that one, turning just enough to move into the house without hitting Stiles' head or feet on the door frame. He focused more on just getting Stiles upstairs to the teen's room, while the elder Stilinski went out to the Camero to get Stiles' bag out of the floorboard of the passenger seat. "Derek?" Stiles mumbled sleepily as he was placed on the bed.

"Sleep, Stiles," was the alpha's response, and the exhausted, barely aware teen just nodded a little in response.

The elder of the two pulled his shirt out of Stiles' grip, pulling away as the sheriff came into the room with his son's backpack. "Thank you for bringing him home," Sheriff Stilinski said after a moment, receiving a nod in response. Derek then left, and the sheriff sighed, going over to his son to take Stiles' shoes off. At least Stiles was actually staying asleep. With as much sleep as the kid missed, it was a good thing.

* * *

Stiles was holed up in his room. It was the Friday of homecoming, and he was planning on spending it home with his dad, watching ridiculous ghost stories on the television (wondering how many of them were real). Only, the sheriff got called in to work, and Stiles found himself alone, poking at his pasta as he tried to focus on reading _A Tale of Two Cities_ for his senior English class. Why had he stupidly signed up for a class that was ninety percent reading and ten percent essays? He was just asking to fail. With a sigh, Stiles reached up with his free hand to absently ruffle his hair, making a mental note that he needed to do something with it again.

He was so focused on _trying_ to focus that he did not realize he was no longer alone in the house; plus, his best friend had the unfair advantage of being a werewolf. "Cheese and fries!" Stiles mumbled under his breath as he jumped, knocking his cup of tea to the floor, after noticing Scott there. "Thanks, jerkface."

Scott had the decency to look sheepish and grabbed a towel from the hall linen closet to help Stiles clean up. "What're your plans tonight, man?" Scott asked. "Tell me you're not going to sit here and postpone homework you're pretending to work on."

"Ah, well, see..." Stiles said as he swung side to side in his rotating chair. He really had no explanation as to why he was skipping other than to postpone homework he was pretending to work on. "Just kinda planned on staying here. I mean, the rest of you guys have dates and all that jazz, and I'd rather not dance with _Greenburg_."

Both of them shared a similar look of disgust before shuddering a little. "You should come, Stiles. It's senior year."

Stiles lifted his brow, as if questioning if that was the best argument Scott could come up with. "Even if I wanted to go, I've nothing to wear."

"You _do_ want to go."

"I don't."

"You're lying."

Stiles sighted when Scott leveled a look at him. Stupid werewolves and their lie detecting skills. He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "Doesn't matter. 'Ve nothing to wear, and I've no date."

"Where what you're wearing," Scott offered with a shrug.

Sure, Stiles would not be all dressed up like the rest of them, but at least he'd be _there_. That was the important part. Scott really wanted his best friend there, though he could understand why Stiles would not want to be there. Nobody liked being the one left out. So, Scott and the others (mostly Lydia, in all honesty) worked together to find the perfect date for Stiles. "Still doesn't change the fact tha-"

"We got you one!" Scott stated with a grin, nodding a few times while absently ruffling his hair. "I mean, you'd be going as friends... unless you wanted to make more out of it. I mean, that's up to you; but, he's meeting us there and yeah."

"Who is it?" questioned Stiles, unable to keep from laughing. The thought of _anyone_ agreeing to the whole idea was laughable. He really was just better staying home. "And I thought I was the rambling one."

"Er, well, why don't you just come see?" Scott pulled his well perfected puppy dog pout and Stiles almost gave into him on the spot. Almost. The younger of the two boys sighed and rolled his eyes before focusing on his English again. "Okay, fine. It's Derek."

"Derek?" questioned Stiles, almost falling off the side of his chair in surprise as he quickly spun around to look at Scott, brow furrowing. "Derek agreed... to go to the dance... with _me_?" As friends or not, that entire scenario was one that Stiles had never pictured. Derek spent a lot of time stalking the school, but actually picturing him taking place at one of the functions was different.

Scott nodded and laughed softly. "It took a lot of coercing from Lydia, and I think she's even getting him to dress up. C'mon. You should come, if only to see that." Scott watched as his best friend chewed on his lower lip lightly, absently bouncing his knee as he moved from side to side. "Look, you know you want to be there, and Derek's a good friend. It'll be fun. You can tease him all night. You're the only one who can get away with it, y'know."

Stiles sighed and sank down in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. He had seriously talked himself up to just enjoy having the house to himself for the night, in having to not deal with anything wolf related, and just being able to take a night to rest. All of his friends were going to be there, though, and it _was_ senior year. They were supposed to make the most out of the moments that they had. After a moment, he nodded and smiled softly, opening his eyes to look at Scott. "Yeah, I'll go. I really don't have anything but this and typical clothes to wear, though. My only dress clothes has blood on them." He shrugged a little, and Scott mirrored the action.

"Who cares?" Scott questioned before the two friends laughed and got up. Scott paused for a moment at his best friend's bedroom door before they left, glancing over at the digital camera sitting on the edge of Stiles' desk. He then looked over to Stiles. "Old time's sake?"

"Yeah."

The two of them smiled before they grabbed the camera and took a few photos. There were some "serious" ones, and a bunch where they were smiling or goofing off. Scott would steal some and give them to the school yearbook staff. He wanted to remember this year more than anything. "C'mon," he said as he draped an arm over Stiles' shoulder. "Let's go."

* * *

An odd dance mix of one of Stiles' favorite songs was playing over the sound system in the gym when he, Scott, and Allison stopped just outside the doors. They were waiting for the others, and Stiles had to admit, he was a bit nervous. It was not enough to raise his heart rate any (since it ran high anyway), but it was there enough for _him_ to notice it. He was not quite sure what it was he was so nervous about. It was just a school dance. With Derek. As friends. Nothing to be nervous about.

"Stiles!" he heard to his right before turning just in enough time to get an armful of Lydia, who squeezed him tightly. "You're here. Thank god. I wanted all of us to be here." She smiled as she pulled away, looking toward everyone, Derek included. As much as she may have hated the whole werewolf thing to start with, she thought of them as family, as her best friends. While she might still act like a snobbish bitch a lot, she knew that they all knew the _real_ her. That was all that mattered to her. "I want a photo. No eye flashy thing, guys." Lydia pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes to show that she meant business.

Erica scoffed and flicked her hair out of her eyes. "Please, like we'd take a chance to ruin a memory of Mr. Alpha all dressed up."

Derek shot Erica a glare, who just grinned in response, and Lydia rolled her eyes. "You're all hopeless," she said with a sigh before getting one of the younger students there to take a group photo.

Stiles had moved from where he'd been before so that he was next to Derek, with Scott on his other side. They were all grouped together and arms were thrown around people. It was an odd, twisted mess, and the pack loved it. None of them ruined the photo, and there was laughter and joking once the photos were taken and they all agreed to go in. Stiles felt a bit under-dressed in comparison, but nobody said anything about his blue jeans and flannel shirt. "I can't believe you actually dressed up for this," Stiles said, tucking his hands into his jeans pockets, not surprised at all that Derek managed to make a solid black suit look amazing. "So, why are you doing this anyway?"

"Lydia asked," replied Derek with a shrug. "Are we going to stand out here talking the whole time, or are you going to head in there to have fun with your friends?"

The teen absentmindedly wet his lips, glancing into the gym before looking back to Derek. "C'mon, and, no just standing around like a bump on a log. You're at a dance, so, y'know, dance," he said, nodding toward the doors before heading it.

It was odd. People kept looking at him funny because he had Derek at his side. Stiles could see the jealousy on some of their faces. He did not blame them. Derek was hotter than hell, a thought that amused Stiles more than anything with the whole werewolf thing. He ignored the looks, though, focusing on having fun with his friends, dancing with all of them and honestly surprised that Derek joined them. If werewolves could get drunk, Stiles would wonder...

However, the tempo of the song changed, slowed down dramatically as a ballad version of "Give Your Heart a Break" started to play. Everyone around them started to pair off, and Stiles smiled softly when he spotted Scott holding Allison close. His eyes then settled on Derek a few feet away from him, only to find the alpha already watching him. Derek held a hand out and Stiles watched it for a moment before going over and taking it in his own, ignoring what anyone else might think. He laughed softly, slightly out of the nerves that came just from being so close to someone as Derek's hand rested on his back and they were practically pressed together. "Didn't take you for the dancing type," Stiles said softly, absentmindedly squeezing Derek's hand that was linked with his own. It was nice to be able to say he had fun at his senior homecoming, and even got in at least one slow song. The fact that it was someone as a friend did not damper it any.

However, Stiles would be lying if he said that being pressed so close to Derek made him wish there really was more there. It was not the first time that idea had flitted across his thoughts, or it probably would have startled him when it did not. He was beginning to really accept the fact that he really did like Derek, as odd as that may have been considering everything. "Mmm... not often, but from time to time," was Derek's response, his hand shifting on Stiles' back without moving any lower or higher than it was. Stiles shifted closer to Derek and did not miss the way the alpha tensed a little for a moment before smiling faintly as Derek relaxed once again.

"S'it weird I like being close to you like this?" Stiles' question was mumbled, nothing that anyone but Derek could really hear (unless some of their noisy pack-mates were _trying_ to overhear).

Derek shook his head, an action that made Stiles smile, before softly saying, "No." As much as he had loathed the idea of dressing up and going to a _high school dance_, Lydia had done an excellent job at talking him into it. Stiles needed someone to be there with him that wasn't going to leave him sitting off by himself as the others danced. Derek knew that Stiles would not have gone (and probably regretted it) otherwise. At the same time, something told him that Stiles would not have been smiling near as much as he was if it had been someone other than Derek that was there with him.

That was confirmed a few moments later when Stiles said he was glad that Lydia had got him to go, letting go of Derek's hand so that he could wrap both arms around Derek's neck, resting the side of his head against Derek's with a soft sigh. The elder of the two wrapped both arms around the teen's waist, holding him close. Stiles smiled, completely unaware that across the room, Melissa McCall was reminding the sheriff that his son _was_ eighteen years old, and that Derek was a good guy that had saved the teen many times, more than he ever _had_ to.

"Just leave them be," she stated as she squeezed the sheriff's arm.

Stiles rested his head against the crook of Derek's neck, feeling one of the man's hands grasp onto the back of his shirt, the other remaining where it was, resting against his back. "Thank you, Sourwolf," Stiles mumbled, though he knew Derek had heard him. Something felt different now, between both of them, and they needed to have a real talk later. For the time being, though, they were just going to enjoy the dance.


	5. Chapter 5: The Talk

_**Thanks, everyone, for the kind reviews. I hope everyone had a great holiday season, no matter which one they celebrate. :)**_

* * *

"So, for the last song of the evening, we're going to slow things down a bit," the DJ announced as the tempo of the song dropped dramatically. "Grab someone special and make the most of it."

Stiles laughed softly and smiled at one of his friends that he had spent the previous dance with went off to find her date, and he looked around for Derek, stopping when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Stiles turned to see the alpha, smiling a bit as he reached up to loosen the partially loosened tie around Derek's neck a little more. "Whataya say? One last dance?" he questioned, not expecting to receive a verbal response. He did not receive one, and he smiled softly as Derek pulled him close again.

The teen wrapped both arms around Derek's neck, absently nuzzling against him a little. He was likely to get stubble burn on his face from being so close so much, but he really did not care. Derek's arms were around his waist, holding him close. That was more important than irritated skin, at least while they moved together slowly on the dance floor. He might tease Derek about it later, but that was later. "Glad you came?" Derek asked him softly.

Stiles nodded a little as he said, "Mmhmm, very glad, actually." He and Derek still needed to talk, preferably somewhere that nosy little werewolves could not overhear. He knew his dad was watching them closely, having talked to the man a bit after finding out that the emergency at the station turned out to not be an emergency and he was able to go to the dance as was originally planned.

"_His hands better stay above your waist,_" the sheriff had said, causing Stiles to turn about ten shades of red, especially since the sheriff _knew_ that Derek and the others would be able to hear him. So far, Derek had done very well to stick to that rule, though there had been an accidental brush of fingers against the skin underneath his t-shirt and above his jeans' waistband when his top had ridden up a bit. That had caused Stiles to jump a little, and Derek had apologized, though they both knew he was not sorry.

If he was honest, Stiles would have loved to stay right there, wrapped up in Derek's arms while staying pressed so close. It was warm, safe, and comfortable. He felt as though nothing bad could happen while in Derek's arms like that. If only it could stay that way and bad things could leave Beacon Hills alone. Stiles really didn't want the song to end, but when it did, he and Derek did not pull too far apart. Derek's arm stayed around Stiles' waist and the teen tugged on the front Derek's suit jacket with a slight smile as he said, "Ready to get out of here?"

Their friends all parted ways in pairs, as Stiles predicted, but it was not as annoying, seeing as he made his way toward Derek's Camero with the elder man's arm around his waist. Half way to the car, Derek took off his jacket and gave it to Stiles, who eagerly tugged it on over his hoodie. It was freezing out, and the hoodie itself was not enough. The suit was only slightly too big, since Stiles was barely any shorter than Derek, though the elder man was definitely more broad in the shoulders and torso, which was what made the jacket seem bigger than it was on the skinny boy who wore it. He could wrap his fingers around the cuff and it smelt like Derek, woodsy and spicy all at once with a hint of something that was more of a mint scent, and Stiles liked it.

Stiles shot a quick text to his dad, saying that Derek would bring him home later, and the sheriff agreed, but warned them if he wasn't back by two, a search party would commence. Soft music played over the radio as Derek drove, though neither of them said anything. It was a comfortable silence, which was strange to Stiles since silence was usually nothing but a bad thing. Once Derek stopped the car, though, Stiles got out and looked around, exhaling heavily. They were somewhere in the woods, Stiles knew that much. It looked like a clearing that he should probably know. It _felt_ familiar and his brow furrowed a little as he heard a lot of echoing laughter and voices. He could practically see at least a dozen, if not more, people around. Kids were running around playing, while adults were setting up the multiple picnic blankets with the overwhelming number of food. Maybe it was one of the department bar-b-ques that the sheriff's co-workers put on every summer. That did not seem right, though.

The teen was startled out of his thoughts when Derek rested a hand on the small of his back, standing right next to him, which made him jump a little before laughing softly. "Sorry, I just... I think I've been here before," Stiles said with a shrug. Derek nodded a little and apologized for startling him, but Stiles shrugged it off. "S'fine. I'd rather talk about something else, though. Like, we should talk about..." Stiles gestured between the two of them as he turned to face Derek. "I mean, it's fairly obvious that I do like you. I just kind of realized it myself, but I think it was always there kinda. I mean, 've been saving your ass from the start, at least for as long as I remember 'cause I can't say if I knew you before. Still, that's a lot of ass saving, and there was still a lot of distance and growling, so I just kinda-"

Stiles inhaled sharply through his nose as Derek successfully cut off his rambling by pressing their lips together, gently taking the teen's chin in his hand. He had tensed a little at the initial action but slowly relaxed as he felt Derek's thumb brush along his jawline. "You talk too much," Derek mumbled as he slowly broke the kiss, smiling faintly with that tone of fondness again. So, maybe Stiles had not imagined it the first time. "You're awkward, and pale, and annoying, and you never sit still or listen. You're always getting into some kind of trouble and running into things. You trip up the stairs, on your own shoelaces, on nothing. You're _human_, and you're persistent, and... amazing. There are times I _want_ to hate you, but I can't."

"Wow," laughed Stiles, unable to keep from grinning as he twisted his fingers into the front of Derek's untucked shirt, the other hand tugging on his loose tie. "That's... So, 'm pretty sure that's as close to a love confession as I believed you could ever get. Of course, in my head it was always to your car, but still..." They both laughed softy and Derek tightened both arms around Stiles' waist, drawing him closer. "Does this mean I can kiss you any time I want?"

"Yeah, you can," Derek replied, smirking a little in amusement before Stiles kissed him firmly again, and he rested one hand on the back of the teen's neck, to keep him close.

* * *

Stiles could not keep from smiling as he and Derek walked up to the front porch. It had been a better evening than Stiles had ever imagined. He could not really wrap his mind around the fact that _Derek Hale_ wanted _him_. It was _him_, after all. "Is your jeep fixed?" Derek asked as Stiles absently toyed with the undone tie draped around Derek's neck.

The teen nodded a little in answer but grinned as he said, "But you can still pick me up if you want. I don't mind. I always like riding with you. S'better than being alone, cause usually even that's quiet despite having the radio on. I don't like the quiet, it's-"

Once again, Stiles' rambling was cut off by Derek's lips pressing against his own, but the teen could not keep from smiling a little into the action. "I'll be here by eight," Derek said softly before slowly pulling away. "Your dad's coming to check on you. Good night, Stiles."

"Night, Sourwolf," Stiles replied with a grin as the front door opened and Derek pulled farther away from him.

Derek and the sheriff acknowledged each other before the younger of the two headed back out to his car and Stiles went inside with his dad. "He should start using the front door," the sheriff stated as he followed Stiles into the kitchen, earning a nod in agreement. "If he's here, I want your bedroom door left open, Stiles."

"Okay," replied the man's son with a nod and a smile. Rules are not, Stiles was just glad that his dad was _okay_ with it. Sure, he knew that his dad seemed to like Derek, but still. There was a difference between being okay with your son being friends with an assumed-but-found-innocent murderer, and dating one.

"Spend more time downstairs than in your room with him. And I want him to be here for dinner Friday."

Stiles nodded and grinned before hugging his father, who stood shocked still for a moment. The sheriff then relaxed and returned the hug, gently squeezing the teen a little. "He means a lot to you, doesn't he?" questioned the man as Stiles pulled away enough to smile at his dad.

"Yeah, he does," the high school senior admitted with another nod, unable to keep from smiling. "`M not sure how it happened. I should probably hate him more than I do, but he's... I mean, I've seen more of the _real_ him, the one that's not just all growly and anger, than anyone else has. He's... he's a great guy."

* * *

"Last practice of the year after school," Stiles mumbled as they stood next to the Camero at the back of the school parking lot. Derek nodded a little, tugging his own leather jacket tighter around Stiles. A part of him wanted the coat back, but an even bigger part of him liked seeing it on Stiles. "And, about Friday..."

"I'll be there, Stiles," replied Derek with a nod before leaning in to kiss Stiles for the second time that morning, lingering for a few moments. "Go inside. I'll see you after practice."

The teen nodded, but stole one more kiss before turning to walk toward the building. Derek did not leave until after Stiles was safely inside, but once he was, the alpha got back into his car and left the school parking lot. He was going to spend the day with Chris Argent, checking the boarders of the town to make sure the new threat had not breached it yet. Spending time with an Argent was not at the top of his to-do list, but it was necessary; and, Derek would put aside his pride when it came to protecting his pack. They counted on him, and he was not willing to let them down, not again.

Meanwhile, Stiles was at his locker, putting up the things he would not need for first class and taking out what he would. He jumped when all of a sudden, Lydia was leaning against the lockers next to him. "Jesus," Stiles breathed after jumping when he noticed her. "You're almost too good on that sneaking up thing, Lydia. Have you been taking lessons from our favorite Sourwolf?"

"Enough about me," replied Lydia, waving her hand dismissively, though she had never said a word about herself. "Did you and Derek finally get your heads out of your asses? We were all hoping the dance would finally knock some sense into you. Or do I have to do that myself?"

She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow, something that would never _not_ be intimidating, and Stiles laughed a little, reaching up to absentmindedly ruffle his hair. "Well, we're kind of together now, so, I say 'yes'?" he replied, unable to keep from grinning, especially when Lydia practically jumped on him in a hug.

"It's about damn time," Scott stated as he and Allison came up on Stiles' other side, though the human friend could hear Scott's discomfort at the whole thing. Scott would always hold a slight resentment toward Derek, despite them being pack, but Stiles knew that. He also knew part of the reason Scott was not nearly as thrilled as Lydia was, was because he worried about Derek hurting Stiles. There was nothing about that that would let Stiles be upset that Scott wasn't as thrilled as the others. He knew that his best friend was happy that he was happy, or he would not have gotten that gentle squeeze to his shoulder, and that was enough for him.

Things really were starting to turn around, and Stiles could not help but wonder, as they headed toward class and he could see faint storm clouds on the horizon, what was going to happen _next_ to break through the sense of calm peace that overfell the small, sleepy town of Beacon Hills.


	6. Chapter 6: The Return

_**So, there's a twist in the story now that even I didn't anticipate. Ah well. It happens.**_

* * *

As the day went on, Stiles had a sickening feeling that something was very wrong. By mid-day, he mass texted everyone, his dad and Melissa included, asking if they were alright. Danny was the first at school to actually _find_ him, however. "Dude, are _you_ okay?" he asked, brow furrowing a little.

Stiles looked a little paler than normal, and that worried Danny more than slightly. "Yeah. I just... don't you feel it? S'just... something feels very _wrong_," Stiles mumbled, though Danny somehow heard him.

Danny frowned but nodded as he said, "Yeah, I've thought that too. I thought it was just me being paranoid."

The two of them stood there a moment longer before heading toward the cafeteria, glancing around them as if expecting _something_ to jump out at them. They joined the rest of the pack that was at the school at their usual table, ignoring the odd looks they always got. A lot of the students still could not believe that their group _chose_ to sit together, what with Stiles and some of the popular students all at one table. So far, so good, Stiles guessed.

He was almost done with his lunch when it happened, making Stiles choke on the drink he had just taken and a fry tumbled out of Scott's mouth before the later said, "No way," while the entire group watched someone walking toward their table.

None of the others could figure out what was going on as Stiles coughed, trying to clear his throat as the woman that had come in stopped at their table. She gave a toothy grin that had some members of the table tense. Lydia cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out who this person was when Stiles finally said, "You're dead! I-I mean... what? How? But, I... I... you were dead. I saw you. We saw you. Sorry for digging you up, that was... But you're dead. I saw you."

Laura Hale laughed softly with an amused smirk, crossing her arms over her chest as she said, "You must be Stiles."

Stiles groaned at how familiar that sounded as Allison said, "Not to be rude, but who _are_ you?"

"Laura," she replied, straightening her leather jacket after uncrossing her arms. "Hale."

The werewolves of the pack tensed significantly as Laura plopped down in an empty seat. "Stiles, call Derek," urged Lydia with a faint frown.

"And say what?" asked Stiles with a mini-flail as Scott mumbled something about "were-zombies". "'Hey, dude, thought you should know your sister's back from the dead, and stealing my fries'? Not cool, by the way."

Stiles huffed and crossed his arms while Laura just smirked in a way that told everyone, if they had any doubts, that she really was Derek's sister; not that her eyes were not similar enough to his to tell that, too. "How is my dear, baby brother?" she questioned, smirking faintly as if she already knew.

"I'm calling Derek," Scott mumbled, pulling out his phone while Stiles studied Laura carefully. Issac whined faintly and Stiles reached over to gently squeeze his wrist as Scott spoke to Derek. "No, man, I know it's not funny. I'm being serious."

Scott held the phone out toward Laura, who smirked once again as she said, "Hi, baby brother. Interesting choices you've made here. Peter was right."

Stiles tensed at the mention of Peter, and he knew the others heard his heart falter for a moment, while Derek's response to Laura was to hang up the phone. Laura rolled her eyes. "Well, it's been real, kiddos," Laura said as she stood up and stretched, earning herself looks from others in the cafeteria that made her smirk. "I've things to see and people to do."

With an over-dramatic wink, Laura left the cafeteria, the pack continuing to sit in confusion. Lunch was almost over when the entire pack received a mass text from Derek saying that there would be a meeting that evening at his place immediately after school. Stiles let out a shaky breath as he put his phone into his jeans pocket. He had no idea what to think of the resurrecting Hales, but a part of him was worried. It took great amounts of power. So, who was doing it, and why? There had to be some reason none of them saw yet. That worried Stiles most of all.

It worried him more than the sound of a younger Laura Hale's voice echoing in his ears. "_You must be Stiles. Derek doesn't shut up about you,_" she said, to which Stiles heard an argumentative whine in response. The teen sighed and rubbed his forehead with a faint frown. Why did those phantom sounds hit him at the worst times? He needed to focus on chemistry.

* * *

Derek was there to get him after school, and the car ride was silent, tense in a way that made Stiles fidget in his seat more than usual until Derek reached over to gently squeeze his knee. "I wish I knew what was going on," Stiles mumbled, knowing that Derek could hear him.

"Yeah," the elder man sighed, gently squeezing Stiles' knee once again.

Once they got to the house, they separated, giving each other some distance for a few reasons. The first being that Stiles' dad was there and would greatly appreciate it if the PDA was minimal. The second was that it was a pack meeting, meaning time to distinguish between boyfriend and alpha. Stiles was not sure how Melissa and his dad got off work for the meeting, but he did not ask. "Okay, so," Stiles said, after a few moments of no one speaking, "Laura showed up at the school today. She stole some of my fries, too."

"Laura... _Hale_?" the sheriff asked for clarification, looking toward Derek, who tensed but remained silent.

Scott nodded as he said, "Yeah. It was. Nothing seemed off beyond her being there when she's dead... or should be. I mean, I saw the body."

"I don't know what this means," Derek admitted, something they all knew was difficult for him. "A lot of research needs to be done, so we can't just rely on Stiles, like always. Until we know for sure, everyone needs to be cautious. Don't go anywhere alone, and _always_ have your phone with you, on, volume up or on vibrate, and charged."

Derek shot a pointed look at Scott, who smiled sheepishly in response. "Do you think Peter did it?" questioned Allison. "It seemed liked she talked to him, at least."

"I don't know. He's not really been around, so..." Derek shrugged in a defeated manner, and Stiles held back the want to get up and hug him.

The meeting was mostly conspiracy theories of what was going on, but soon enough, everyone started to leave. Stiles had already talked to his dad about staying with Derek. He did not want to leave the man alone in that house. The sheriff had not allowed it, but came up with a compromise. "Dad said you could come stay with us," Stiles told his boyfriend once they were alone. "My door's got to stay open, but you wouldn't be up here alone."

Derek looked, for a moment, like he was going to argue, but then, he nodded and said, "Yeah, okay. Let me grab some clothes and books we can start with."

"M'kay," Stiles replied, nodding a little while smiling softly at Derek. It was not exactly the scenario he would have chosen for having Derek in his bed, but it was a start.

Soon enough, the two were in the car, heading toward the Stilinski house as Derek and Stiles had their hands linked between them, the elder driving with one hand. Stiles absently bounced his knee, humming along with the radio that played softly, until he finally said, "I think I keep remembering bits and pieces from before."

"Oh?" Derek's face did not change, though Stiles had not expected it to.

"Mmhmm... like... you falling asleep next to me, or Laura saying that you talked about me a lot." Stiles' brow furrowed a little, glancing over at Derek, who reached a hand over to link his fingers with Stiles'. "We were close, weren't we?"

Derek sighed softly as he turned the car onto the road that would take them to Stiles' house. "Yeah, kinda," he answered after a few moments. "Your mom's best friend was my mom. I'm not supposed to answer these questions. We're supposed to let you remember on your own. It's... less damaging that way."

Stiles lifted his brow at Derek's choice of words. _Less damaging_. That meant that whatever had happened was really bad. Of course, the whole selective amnesia thing could lead one to that conclusion as well. Stiles worried at his lower lip absently, looking out the window as the houses and trees flew past them. "I want to remember," Stiles insisted. "I don't like not knowing years of my life, especially if you were in it."

"You'll remember when you do," Derek insisted, gently squeezing Stiles' hand as he parked the car outside of the Stilinski house.

Stiles sighed softly but did not argue, and the two of them made their way inside, where the sheriff was making dinner for the three of them. "Hello, boys," he said with a smile. "Food's almost done."

"Thanks, Dad. We'll be right down," replied Stiles, smiling back before leading Derek upstairs so they could put his bag and the books down. "We can start researching after we eat. I'll never focus if we don't."

The two of them laughed softly, knowing it was the truth, and Derek gently squeezed Stiles' arm before the two of them went downstairs to help the sheriff set the table. It was really relaxed, while Stiles had been sure it would be a little more tense. It was the first time the three of them were alone together since he and Derek had gotten together. He knew that his dad knew, he had made sure of it after all, and he was worried that his dad was going to try the whole intimidating, protective father thing; but, the man never did.

It was nice, in an odd way. Soon enough, though, Derek and Stiles were up in the teen's room, sprawled out on his bed as they poured over the books that Derek had brought. Stiles had some rock music playing in the background, and the teen hummed along faintly, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the edge of the book that he was looking through. It was fascinating, and had a lot of facts that might come in handy in the future; but, so far, there was nothing on the resurrection of anything, supernatural or not.

"It's probably something really dark," Stiles mumbled to himself, reaching up to absently ruffle his hair. They had been reading for quite a few hours, and a glance at the clock told Stiles that it was nearing one in the morning, and he had school later. "Shit. I need to get some sleep."

Derek did not comment, but he nodded before standing up to start cleaning off the bed. Stiles started to help, but Derek just told him to go change instead. Once they were both in more comfortable clothes, they climbed into Stiles' bed, Derek's arm instantly wrapping around his boyfriend's waist to pull Stiles close to him. Stiles hummed softly with a faint smile, snuggling as close as possible. Stiles wanted to talk, to run some ideas by Derek, but he could not quite get his mouth to cooperate, as a wave of tiredness he had not realized was there hit him. It only took a few moments before Stiles was actually asleep, safe and warm as he snuggled close to Derek. The elder male ended up falling asleep soon after, and when the sheriff walked by to head to his own room, the man could not keep from smiling faintly seeing them all curled up together. It reminded him of years past, where they would do the same when his wife babysat Derek.

He should have known that, memories or not, Stiles would end up back in Derek's life. There was an attraction there, _something_ that just pushed them together. It was odd to think of Stiles with anyone but Derek, the sheriff realized as he climbed into his own bed. There was a day when he would have been more upset by that thought. However, he was just glad that his son was happy.


	7. Chapter 7: The Breakdown

"_No, don't touch him. Stiles, Stiles run!" he heard someone say, though he could not see who it was. He ran. He ran toward the charred remains of the Hale house, only it wasn't the charred frame he was used to seeing. It was the undamaged, fully intact structure that had been there years before Stiles and Scott made their way out there. "No." There were sounds of crying through the words that seemed to surround him, though he still could not see anything. "My son. Run!"_

_He pressed his hands to his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as the sounds of dogs barking, unintelligible voices shouting, chains and doors, gunshots, and other various things he could not name seemed to surround him, echoing off the trees as he stumbled up the front steps of the Hale house toward the door. He did not even make it close enough to reach out blindly for the door handle when it opened and someone was outside on the porch with him._

"_Shh..." Stiles heard a new voice. This one was more soothing, not shouting, though it still seemed a bit scared and unsure. "Stiles, it's okay. It's just me. You're okay. Open your eyes. Open your eyes, Stiles. I need you to look at me."_

_Stiles blinked open his bloodshot eyes to see a very familiar and much younger version of Derek Hale than he met out in the woods the day he and Scott went looking for his inhaler. "D-Derek," Stiles choked out against his will. He hadn't wanted to say anything. His voice sounded broken, like he had been screaming, and it shook with his attempts to keep breathing. "M-Mom, they h-have my mom."_

_Stiles was unsure what happened then. Derek called over into the house for his dad as Laura came rushing up to the front porch, shouting something about rogue werewolves. There were so many shouts around him and Stiles found himself slumping over in Derek's arms, unconscious._

The dream that Stiles had the night before bothered him all day. He should have been at school, but when he woke up shaking and pale, his dad had told him to stay home and he called the school. Stiles had sent a mass text out to the pack, letting them know that he was okay, but that he would not be at school that day. Derek asked him if he wanted company, but Stiles had told him that he would see the alpha that evening. Derek was not getting out of dinner. He was planning on using that day to try to do more research, which he knew Derek was doing at the library at the college an hour away; but, for the time being, he was busy cleaning the house.

Stiles just could not sit still or focus on anything, and he had taken his Adderall like he was supposed to. He dusted and straightened up the living room, taking a few moments to sort through the small pile of magazines on the coffee table and put them in order based on release date. Stiles then made his way to the kitchen, the laundry room, his bedroom. When he was in his bedroom, he had music playing loud enough to practically fill the entire house. It made the house not seem so empty as he cleaned off his desk and reorganized his bookshelves.

"_You always call me, and ask me how I make it through the day. I'm always fallin'. I guess it's just God's way of making me pay. But something makes me carry on. It's difficult to understand why I always wanna fly. I do it for the drugs. I do it just to feel alive. I do it for the love_-"

Stiles jumped and spun around, ready to throw his quite heavy history textbook at whoever had just turned off the stereo that was sitting on top of his dresser by the door, but froze when he saw Isaac standing there, frowning a little. "Oh, hey, Isaac," Stiles said with a relieved, heavy sigh as he set the textbook back down. "Shouldn't you be in fourth period right now?"

"Are you okay?" is what Isaac said in reply instead of actually answering Stiles' question. "I mean, I know what your text said, but..." Isaac was trying, and failing, to not let his worry show through on his face. He tried to seem like he was simply double checking that everything was alright since nobody really knew what was going on.

"Yeah, I just... I woke up feeling sick." Stiles nodded a little, wiping his sweaty palms off on his jeans. Stiles seemed to be debating something, and Isaac just waited as the other teen really did debate on whether or not he should tell Isaac about the dream that might have been a memory. Derek and his dad had exchanged looks when he told them about it (which was basically an unspoken confirmation) but they did not tell him for sure whether or not it had actually happened. "I just... I woke up in a panic attack. I couldn't breathe. It was just... it was bad. Dad almost stayed home with me instead of going to work, and Derek almost put off research at that giant ass library that we need to figure out how to transport into town because Jesus fuck, it's way too far away. It's got the best research tools and we have to-"

Stiles only stopped rambling when Isaac stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug, though it did not hurt at all. The slightly shorter teen stood still for a moment before he relaxed in Isaac's arms, leaning against the other boy. He wrapped both arms around Isaac and started to cry the tears that had been threatening him since he woke up unable to breathe. He was so confused and stressed, and he just wanted to know what was going on with the whole Laura thing and to know what had happened to his mother. He wanted to just have more than a day or two where things seemed normal and okay.

Isaac did not say anything. He led Stiles over to the bed, making him lay down before pulling off his own leather jacket, draping it over the back of Stiles' desk chair before climbing into the bed to lay down next to him. Stiles immediately snuggled close to Isaac, just letting himself cry as the beta werewolf toyed with his hair. He cried for himself, for his mother, for Scott, for Derek, for Isaac, for his dad... he cried for everything that had happened, everything that had been lost, and everything that was to come. He felt weak, like some silly little girl or something; but, it felt like something he _needed_ to let himself do. While he had felt extreme emotions throughout everything that had happened, Stiles had never let himself actually _express_ just how sad he was since he had started to repress the memories of his early childhood.

It took a long while before Stiles stopped crying, but he did not move away from Isaac any. Isaac was pack, and felt warm and of safety. Stiles did not want to move at all, and it only took a few moments after Stiles murmured a thank you for the human teen to drift off into a sleep full of dreams that he would not remember. Isaac did not move save to pull his cell phone out of his back pocket, texting everyone that Stiles would be okay and that he was going to stay there the rest of the day. Isaac eventually drifted off to sleep as well, focusing on the steady, slightly elevated pattern of Stiles' heartbeat.

* * *

Derek sighed as he closed another useless book and set it aside. Sure, it might come in handy at another time; but, for what he was searching for, it was no help. He really wanted to be back with Stiles, frowning a little as he checked the time on his phone before going back to reading the tomes before him. At least he knew that Isaac was with Stiles and that the beta would not let anything happen to him. Isaac was almost more protective of Stiles than he and Scott were, almost. He was definitely up there; but, then, Stiles had always been the one to treat Isaac with the most kindness and help the boy not feel so left out in the group.

He jumped a little when his phone started to vibrate in his pocket, and he was going to ignore the text since it did not beep with the vibration (which would have signaled a text marked important), but it did not stop vibrating, meaning that it was a phone call. Derek did not bother checking to see who was calling as he answered with, "Yes?"

"Any luck?" Danny asked over the rustle of papers moving and the low hum of a school heater.

"No."

"Jackson, Lydia, and I are looking over some books here at the school library," Danny explained, not bothering to mention that they were only able to do so because it was their lunch period. "We've got nothing so far, either. Isaac's staying with Stiles."

Derek let out a slight noise that let them know that he already knew that. "Call Deaton. See if he knows anything," Derek said, almost mumbling the words as he was distracted by reading what was in front of him. He felt hurried because he _needed_ to know. He needed to know if Laura being back was good or bad; he couldn't let himself get caught up in the fact that she was his sister and that he missed her and needed her if it was only going to end up being that she had to be taken care of. Derek needed to keep himself emotionally distant from the whole thing, or he would only end up hurting himself.

The alpha's gaze lifted up from the books to the walkway in front of him when he heard the echoing sounds of someone's footsteps actually heading in his direction, and he immediately tensed when he saw who it was. "Keep looking," was the last thing he nearly growled into the phone before hanging up and setting it down.

Laura smiled at him as she stopped a few feet in front of the table, crossing her arms over her chest. Her brunette hair was pulled back out of her face in a loose braid that day which showed off her eyes that matched Derek's. "My little brother, the alpha," Laura said fondly as she cocked her head to one side.

"You're dead," was the only thing that Derek could make himself grind out, clenching his teeth as he tensed in his chair, fighting his urge to just get up and hug the woman before him. He could not risk doing something so rash. She had been _dead_. To think of the entire situation light-heartedly put everyone at risk.

"Well," laughed the elder Hale sibling with a grin, straightening up as she made a few more steps toward the table, "I was." She studied the young man before her with a soft smile before uncrossing her arms. "Y'know, Peter sa-"

"Peter is a psychotic asshole, Laura." Derek stood up and grabbed his cell phone, shoving it into his coat pocket before stacking up the few books he was going to borrow from the library, the ones he had not looked through yet.

She frowned a little, crossing her arms once again. "He's family."

"He turned an _unwilling_ human, an- Y'know what? I'm not having this conversation."

"Here, I thought you'd be glad to see me."

Derek stiffened a little as he slowly looked over at the only other person seemingly in the library. "My sister is dead," Derek replied lowly, a slight growl breaking through his words before he quickly left the library, not looking back for a moment. He knew very well that if Laura had wanted to come after him, she could have; but, she did not. The entire thing made Derek's head pound more than his heart was. _What _was going on?

* * *

When Derek got back to Beacon Hills, lacrosse practice was over and almost the entire pack met at Derek's place. Stiles, the sheriff, and Isaac were the only ones not accounted for, but everyone knew they were over at the Stilinski's and that Derek would fill them in later. He told them all about Laura having been at the library and how he still had not found anything but he had more books for them to look through. Lydia took the books and said she would let them know if she found anything. Her and Danny left soon after to go to hers so that she would not take it upon herself to look entirely alone. Jackson had to go to some family function, though they all knew he would rather be with Lydia. Scott and Allison stuck around a while longer for them to talk about Stiles, Derek promising to let them know if they could do anything to make the other teen feel any better at all.

Derek then made his way over to the Stilinski house, where the sheriff was making dinner, listening to some baseball game on the television. "Stiles and Isaac are still asleep upstairs," the sheriff told Derek as he let the man in. "Dinner will be done here in a few minutes if you would like to tell them. Isaac can join us if he wants."

"Thanks," Derek replied with a faint smile before heading upstairs to Stiles' room, where he found that Stiles was still asleep, but Isaac was laying there with his eyes open, trained on the door. Isaac had been waiting for Derek to get there, and he carefully moved away from Stiles without waking him up. "You can stay, you know."

Isaac nodded a little as he pulled his jacket back on and smiled a bit. "Yeah, well, 've hogged his attention all day. S'your turn now," replied the beta before he moved past Derek and out into the hall. Besides, he wanted to do something more productive, like going to help Lydia and Danny. He knew that he was welcome there, and that Stiles was glad for him having been there; but, it was time to let someone else be there for Stiles.

Stiles shifted a little when he felt Derek laying down next to him, and the teen slowly opened his eyes. "Wh's Isaac?" Stiles mumbled as he shifted closer to Derek, wrapping an arm around the other man's waist to draw him closer.

"Think he's going over to Lydia's," replied Derek with a nod, resting his head against the top of Stiles'.

"D'you find anything?" Stiles pressed his face against Derek's collarbone, keeping his eyes closed as he took comfort in having Derek's arms wrapped securely around him. As much as he truly appreciated and loved snuggling with Isaac, Stiles felt a lot safer in Derek's arms. Derek shook his head, but did not say anything, and Stiles sighed softly. "We'll figure it out."

After a few long moments of silence in which Derek's fingers absently ran through Stiles' hair, the alpha sighed and said, "Your dad's got dinner done. We should head down there. Afterward, we should talk."

"Will you tell me what 'm still forgetting?" Stiles asked as he pulled away enough to look at Derek. "I want you to. I'm tired of not knowing. Wouldn't you want to know?"

"I... Yeah, okay." Derek nodded a little, brushing a kiss against Stiles' forehead as he stood up. "I'll tell you. For now, let's just go downstairs and enjoy dinner with your dad, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

_**Ten house points to whoever knows what song Stiles was listening to.**__ ;)_


End file.
